He took from his bosom a crumpled paper, and unfolding it, raised it to his lips; then read it for the last time by the lurid light of the conflagration.
"One day these flowers hung their heads to die. They let fall their luminous soul like a diamond. Then the two drops of dew met at last, and were mingled in the stream."
The heat was intolerable. The paper suddenly blazed up in the Prince's fingers. He gasped for breath; he felt that he was dying.
"My beloved," he cried, "I go before! Do not make me wait too long at the tryst!"
Like the huge petals of a fiery flower, the flames shut in the last floor; they spread to the roof. The two monstrous goldfish writhed on the ridge-pole as if suddenly endowed with life; then they melted, and flowed down in two incandescent streams. Soon the entire edifice fell in with a terrible crash, and an immense sheaf of sparks and flame streamed up to heaven.
[1] June 2, 1615.